


Unseen Suffering

by SniperMoran



Series: Sebastian Flashbacks/Nightmares [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Frustration, I'm so mean to him, but only sometimes, crying Seb, honestly I sometimes feel a little bad, twist that might not really be a twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SniperMoran/pseuds/SniperMoran
Summary: Sebastian's having flashbacks again and he's locked himself in the bathroom to deal with them himself.





	

     The water cascaded down rigid muscles as the sniper stood, hands pressed against the shower wall, head hanging beneath the stream of water from the shower head. His eyes were closed, his breathing calm for the time being. He’d been having the flashbacks again, more frequent and invading than usual. He let his mind wander to focus on the feeling of the water, each individual drop drawing lines down his body, mapping himself out. He shifted his focus to his breathing, keeping it calm and consistent. He couldn’t afford to go into a blind panic right now, not now. His muscles in his face tightened as he clenched his jaw, eyes flashing open, water droplets falling from his eyelashes.

     “Darling…Seb…Tiger…come on out of there now. Open the door. Be good now.” the familiar Irish lilt called from the other side of the door. His voice was level and calm, very unusual for the smaller man. But he knew what was going on behind the locked door. He knew that his right hand man was suffering from unseen forces. He knew this was part of the package when he had gotten to know the typically steadfast man over the years. “It’s alright now, Tiger…listen to my voice. Listen to the sounds of the water, feel it all around you. Focus, and breathe. You can get yourself out of this.” he urged, trying his best to be encouraging for the man.

     Sebastian, eyes closed again as he attempted to focus on the voice, the water, anything but the flashes. Blood, gunshots, more blood, screams, a strange and familiar whooshing sound, wind and silence. The scenes kept repeating, over and over, in short bursts, only showing partial stories. The sniper slammed his hands against the shower wall, once, twice, three times, and felt his knees giving out beneath him. “No….No…it….no I didn’t…I couldn’t…” The water pounded against his curved spine as he buried his head between his knees, the cold of the tub barely registering in his mind as the flashes kept coming, faster and faster, more details pouring in as they went. Dark hair, a smile, a laugh, a disbelieving look, the gunshot, the shock, the whooshing, the wind, and silence.

     “Tiger, you know you have to pull yourself out of this. You can do it, you’re strong, I know you are.” the spider king hummed through the door, the sound barely reaching the sniper’s ears over the pounding of the water. He was starting to shake, he clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to remember anymore, not wanting the details to pour in, not wanting the stories to play out.

     “Tiger, I won’t play nice anymore here. Open the damn door. Pull yourself together. You’re stronger than this, stop disappointing me.” the tone to the Irish lilt was stern now, back to a more normal sounding version of the voice. The smaller man pressed against the door, wondering just how much force it would take to break down the door, or perhaps if his loyal pet had any tools lying around that could pick the lock, or unhinge the door.

     Sebastian took a deep and shaky breath, slowly pushing himself up from the floor of the tub. He reached up, shutting off the water and moving the shower curtain away. He grabbed the towel he had set out for himself and wrapped it around his waist as he headed for the door, hesitating as he reached out for the lock. Dark hair, dark coat, a stupid ringtone, a stupid smile, a cocky look, blue, curls, gunshot, shock, whooshing, screams, wind, silence.

     He hadn’t even noticed that tears had started streaming down his cheeks as he unlocked the door slowly, the click of the lock moving out of place. He swallowed heavily, staring blankly at the doorknob, half expecting it to turn of its own accord. Vision blurry, thoughts racing, he finally turned the knob, slowly, and opened the door.

     Steam flooded from the bathroom, quickly dissipating in the cool air of the flat just beyond the door. The sniper glanced around, but there was not even a shred of hope in his eyes, just emptiness. Bare feet shuffled clumsily across the floor, carrying the sniper to the kitchen where he looked around some more, eyes showing nothing, face blank. He grabbed the nearest object, everything was moving in slow motion as his brain came down from the near panic. The object, just happening to be an empty bottle of whiskey, was hurled across the flat, smashing and shattering into pieces on the floor.

    Falling to his knees, he grabbed his head, curling fingers into damp dirty blonde hair and tugging. His shoulders shook, and the rest of his body followed as he let out a howl of pain and slumped over, sobs wracking his body, causing him to hyperventilate slightly.

     “WHY?!” he managed to choke out, his voice shaking and pained. “ ** _Why_** do you keep _**doing**_ this to me?!” the words came out through sobs, his eyes squeezing tears down his cheeks as he hugged himself, shaking. “Come back…or set me free…” he whimpered. “Please…”

 

_‘Oh Tiger…you know I can’t do that.’_

**Author's Note:**

> It feels good to have some sort of mojo back. Hopefully all these sad little drabbles aren't getting anyone's hopes up too much, but I do have something big planned, just trying to work myself back up to it. Haven't written in a while.


End file.
